


The Claim of Nothing

by BiowareManiac



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-02-10 23:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18670105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiowareManiac/pseuds/BiowareManiac
Summary: With 17 million Quarians living amongst the tens of thousands of ships that make up the Migrant Fleet, it is difficult to become a distinguished individual. The Pilgrimage gives every young Quarian a chance to prove themselves and potentially enhance the lives of every Quarian aboard the Flotilla. Keto'Reegar, from clan Reegar, a family with rich military history that spans all the way back to when Quarians still lived on Rannoch. Expectations are high and with rumours of an ancient race of machines threatening to exterminate all life in the galaxy, time is running out.





	1. Chapter 1

[Journal entry 0001]  
I have been given this device to record my findings as I venture onward on my Pilgrimage, by my mother. My name is Keto'Reegar nar Chayym, and much is expected of me. I hope I find something of worth and quickly so that I may return home as soon as I can. Keelah se'lai.

~~~~~~~~

 

The Migrant Fleet sat in orbit of an uninhabited planet in the Pylos System, just outside the Terminus Systems. From the inside, we seemed so small compared to the extreme vastness that is space. It was difficult to get the mind around the sheer amount of worlds even in just this galaxy, the Milky Way, as the humans called it anyway. What lay beyond was a mystery, there were rumours of a large scale exodus to find a new habitable star system but it was a few years away from being ready to launch. It was called the Andromeda Initiative, recruitment posters for the Quarian Ark had already been put up around the Flotilla. It was a long way off being ready, but preparations were underway. 

My family had been called together to say their farewells, my mother seemed sad to see me go but my father was stoic as ever, a soldier to the core. It seemed harsh from the outset but being in the legendary Reegar clan aboard the Flotilla meant that I, Keto’Reegar had certain expectations for what I might return with. My lineage was overflowing with military history and experience, my paternal uncle, Kal’Reegar had given me many a lesson on survival and hand-to-hand combat techniques. I’m sure these will prove invaluable, who knows where I might end up in this crazy cosmos. Kal had met and fought alongside the legendary Commander Shepard, my uncle’s skills were renowned throughout the Fleet and now beyond. It was my dream to be as idolised by the rest of my clan. I carried the weight of my house on my shoulders, but I was confident that I could bring something back that my family and the Fleet would be proud of. I was fortunate though, most young Quarians have to hitch a ride with another crew to begin their Pilgrimage, there are seventeen million of us spread amongst roughly fifty thousand spacecraft. But being part of my clan came with privileges, the ship provided to me by my family was practical, big enough for one Quarian to live but small enough to be manned by one crew member. It was a salvaged Cerberus Interceptor, so it didn’t have a name, only a serial number. ‘CI049’. I could work on giving it a proper name in the future as I went along, I had time to figure it out.

The engine whirred to life, on the inside the ship was a clinical white with bright red detailing. It would need some work to make it more homely, but it would do as it was for now. As I pulled away from the main swathe of ships that made up the Flotilla, I suddenly felt the awareness of how small and insignificant I am in comparison to the rest of the Fleet, but what I bring back could be something that could change my people’s lives forever, perhaps even leading to a home back on Rannoch one day. The VI interface came to life on the dashboard, an orb of bright yellow appeared before him. “Hello Keto’Reegar nar Chayym, I am the VI for this ship. You may call me Vin. What are your instructions?” I pondered the digital construct, and the question it posed. Where should I start? What should I look for? The nearest mass effect field would take an hour or so to get to, enough time to decide on a heading.  
“Take me to the closest mass effect field, I will decide on final coordinates when we are closer to the field” The hologram nodded before disappearing into the console, I leaned back in my chair as the engines pulled me away from the safety of the Fleet and into the darkness towards discovery.


	2. Chapter 2

[Journal Entry 0002] 

I have begun my voyage into the unknown, for the first time I am completely alone. No family to come and rescue me as they have in the past, I must look after myself and find something of worth but where to start? Wish me luck, Keelah se'lai.

~~~~~~~~

The shining light of the Mass Effect field glittered a few hundred clicks away, the purple glow could almost be lost amidst the stars that hung like fairy lights against a black canopy. The sheer vastness of space was equally balanced by the immense beauty of it. The difficulty came with choosing a place within such an enormous space, how does one become distinguished amongst the billions of lifeforms? Commander Shepard had earned herself galaxy-wide recognition for her role in bringing down Sovereign, the reaper who had planned to begin the extermination of all life in this galaxy but was thwarted by Commander Shepard and her crew of legendary companions. She was revered as a god in certain circles, even resulting in a very lifelike VI that was created for her fans. That is until her untimely death at the hands of pirates in a system not that far from the one I was in. Then her name faded as fast as it came, the governments of all of our people brushed her name and everything she did under the carpet to be forgotten. 

A warm yellow light lit up the wide dashboard as the VI came to life, interrupting my train of thought. “We are approaching the Mass Effect field sir, do we have a heading yet?” It would probably be worth going to a central system so I can resupply and perhaps find a planet where I can start my search. The Citadel was probably the best place to start, everything is in one place and there is such diversity amongst its inhabitants. I had wondered how it had recovered from the attack from Sovereign, apparently amongst its inhabitants were a strange yet ancient creature called ‘Keepers’, if they were real then it was said that they maintain the upkeep of the massive structure somehow. It sounded like fantasy but then again so did the idea of the Reapers till one showed up on our doorstep. I returned my attention back to the console,   
“Set a course to go to the Citadel, alert me when we are close” I ordered as I rose from the captain’s chair, it was time to check my suit and perhaps eat some of the disgusting food pouches I had been left. My top lip curled up in disgust inside my helmet, maybe the Citadel would have some food more akin to my palate. One could hope. 

As I set to work on checking the various valves and seals that kept my suit airtight my mind wandered to what I might find aboard the Citadel, I had thought the Flotilla was something to behold but the Citadel was supposed to be something else. A Prothean construct, a gargantuan ship with five arms each one able to support millions upon millions of lifeforms. It was also the heart of the galaxy’s governments, an individual from each race chosen to represent their people on the ‘Council’. A privilege denied to the Quarians for their involvement in the creation of the Geth, something no one has forgotten. Quarians were and are still treated as lower class citizens for their mistake. The lower echelons of society were supposedly filled with my people both young and old, lost on their Pilgrimage with no way home. The thought filled me with dread, how could I walk by if I see someone being abusive towards a Quarian? I could handle myself but I didn’t want to get a reputation as a troublemaker. I just wanted to explore for a few days then start my Pilgrimage properly once I’m ready. It would take at least twelve hours to get there from this system, plenty of time to rest and create a plan of action. 

Once satisfied that my suit was as secure as it could be I turned to one of my storage boxes that contained my nutrient pastes that were as tasty as they sounded. I pulled the tab, opening a corner on the sachet before squeezing its contents into the compartment at the front of my mask where a tube leads to my mouth. An inefficient way to ingest food but what can you do when you have to live your life inside a suit and the very air outside has the potential to have bacteria in it that could kill you via infection. Our immune systems are so weak after losing our home planet, each and every Quarian’s dream is to taste air with our own lungs instead of through a filter or to see a Rannoch sunrise with our own eyes instead of through a visor. The phrase ‘Keelah se’lai’ can be translated to literally to ‘By the homeworld I hope to see one day’. We will get there one day, our people will have a homeworld again. How can we not with so many minds driven towards the same goal?


	3. Chapter 3

[Journal Entry: 0003]

This ship is interesting, salvaged from a human-survivalist paramilitary group called Cerberus. While I’m totally uneducated on their culture, at least humans still have their homeworld and can breathe without a suit normally, they sound like a dramatic people. Though Commander Shepard didn’t seem like that, we’ll see. Keelah se'lai.

~~~~~~~~

The access codes for docking at the Citadel were amongst my notes on my omni-tool, I was so distracted by what I saw when my ship had completed the jump between the mass effect fields that I had forgotten to find them prior to arrival. My family had organised a two day resupply pass at any of the main systems, I had allowed them to place a tracker on my ship so should I get lost they could always find me, which explains how they knew I was here. Though nothing could have prepared me for what I saw, the Citadel was literally breathtaking, so when the docking co-ordinator chimed onto my comms, it was a scramble to get the right information to him but we got there in the end. Gratefully the rest of the docking procedure went without a hitch. I was able to find the right port, follow the instructions and joined with the Citadel successfully. Once the pressures from both ships had aligned, the Citadel’s VI popped up in place of my ship’s one.  
“Welcome Keeto’Reegar, to the Citadel, a home for all races. My name is Avina and I am the resource VI for the Citadel. The Admiralty Board informed us of your arrival and your purpose here”  
The VI took an Asari’s form, her form flickering ever so slightly when she spoke. Her voice was soft and reassuring, contradicting the instilled distrust of VI’s and AI’s from my Quarian heritage. “There is cargo awaiting your collection in Bay 36 in our warehouse sector, if you speak to the receptionist there, they can further assist you. For now, is there anything I can help you with?”  
I pondered the question, though I quickly decided that I would discover what I could of the Citadel on my own, rather than being told by this virtual construct.  
“No thanks”  
“Very well, should you require my assistance I have a terminal based on each level of the public areas. Have a good day”  
With that the VI disappeared, leaving the cockpit feeling dark and empty. Not wanting to stay cooped up in the ship. It made sense to see what items had been arranged for me to pick up in the warehouse sector. 

As I left the airlock I was immediately greeted by the giant foyer, members of every race mingled together in what seemed like quite a peaceful time. It was hard to imagine that 2 years before this place had been ravaged by an ancient race of sentient machines. But it was a testament to the hard work of the engineers and the so-called Keepers. I quickly went through processing, and took the lift down a few levels to the Shipping Warehouse. There I was greeted by a seemingly bored human who was inside a glass walled room, he barely glanced up from the tablet he was holding,  
“Name, manifest number” he mumbled into the microphone. Rolling my eyes inside my helmet I gave the moody human the information he needed, without a word the doors to the warehouse slid open. I looked to the receptionist for instruction, still without looking up from the tablet he further mumbled, “once you find your container, buzz us on your omni-tool and we’ll have it delivered to your ship as soon as we can. So with determined exhale I went through the doors in search of Bay 36 which is where my container supposedly is, though if it’s handling went anywhere near the guy who on was on the desk maybe I wouldn’t be so sure. The numbers floated by as I made my way past each of the bays containing cargo, each bay seemed to contain at least twenty five containers, so I might be here awhile just finding the damned thing. 

Once Bay 36 finally came into view, I stopped to look back at all the way I came and then dared to glance at the bay my container was in. It appeared to have around forty containers, this would definitely take a while. I loaded up the manifest number and started the search for my cargo. 

It took just over half an hour to find my container, I entered my codes and I could hear the hissing of gears and pistons as the large metal box moved out from the wall so the contents could be viewed. At the top sat a small box containing a voice note, a tiny piece of tech that my mother designed for leaving voice notes and messages for loved ones. The recording played my mother’s voice, her words filled with encouragement and support and at the end mentioning that I have ten thousand credits at my disposal. My heart panged with a distinct hankering for home, I missed my mother more than anyone, she’s always been there for me. Even now, when I’m far, far away from home, she still finds ways to remind me that she is thinking of me. I would keep the little box, it would be a source of comfort over the next few months or years I’m sure. There was an assault rifle, an M-15 Vindicator that had been painted black. It was a nice weapon, hopefully I won’t need to use it but my training with uncle Kal will mean that at least I’ll know how to use it. A set of armour sat at the bottom, I could see its base colour was navy but I couldn’t see much else. I could see the rest when I try it on upon my return to the ship. There was a box of new tools for scavenging, as well as a combat knife. Lastly right at the bottom lay several books, a human cultural invention. On the cover, written in artistic calligraphy was, ‘An essential compilation of poems written by, Matsuo Basho’, I was confused by this item. It held no military nor survival benefit, why would my mother give me this? I decided not to dwell on it, stepping back and pressing the buttons to put the container away. I pinged the reception desk with the containment number and made my way back to the Presidium level, I wanted to explore as much as I could in the forty eight hours of time I have here. 

The Presidium was walled with glass on either side, a splendid view of the Citadel gardens greeted me as I walked towards the shopping levels. My walk was calm but determined, I could see members of other races staring at me as they wandered past. Krogans were the most intimidating race I had seen, they were at least 8 feet tall and were built like walking tanks. Their piercing yellow eyes sent a wave of cold intimidation through me. I regretted not meeting people from other races sooner, anxiety rattled in my chest but my exterior was calm and confident. I would not show any sort of weakness.  
The first place I was searching for was a food supply store, I wanted to know if there was anything more tasty than the nutrition paste I had been thriving on. The one I found was tended by a tall Turian with green war paint, neat streaks painted over his mandibles. I approached the counter and looked up at the attendant, he opened his arms as he spoke. “Welcome to Zakera Ward Cafe, if you need a hand finding what you need. My inventory is on this console here” he gestured to the machine, it's screen filled with different options. I looked from the console to the Turian, I asked the attendant about what my options would be, I had to be careful, my immune system is so weak that I could have a serious anaphylactic reaction. It could literally kill me, the Turian gave a few suggestions and I paid for them. They were still pastes, it was unavoidable because of my helmet, but they had been given more pleasant flavours. There were sweet and savoury flavours, I couldn’t wait to try them. I was filled with glee at such a thing, it seemed so small and trivial but it was a new experience and I couldn’t wait.

After a few hours of browsing what the Citadel stores had to offer, I made my way back to my ship to rest. I’d picked up a few souvenirs to decorate my ship, a few mods for my armour and my rifle and I found an amusing little creature called a ‘hamster’. I decided the curious, fuzzy brown creature could serve as a companion for the lonely months ahead.


End file.
